


Blut und Ehre

by Nightlore



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Angst, BDSM, Demon Sex, Erotica, M/M, Military Fetish, Nazi Exploitation, Sibling Incest, Supernatural Elements, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-31
Updated: 2012-10-31
Packaged: 2017-11-17 10:38:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/550660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightlore/pseuds/Nightlore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is All Hallows' Eve when Dante receives an anonymous invitation to a party of a most sinister nature. Takes place sometime after the events of DMC3.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blut und Ehre

**Author's Note:**

> A dark Halloween fic that I spent quite some time working on awhile back. It starts off a little cheesy at first, in light of the holiday spirit, but it progresses to a much more serious tone as the story develops. Please note that although this story has a number of Nazi overtones it is not intended to glorify Hitler’s ideologies; rather they are a means to showcase a forbidden fetish and also to solidify the overall theme of the story.

* * *

_Blut und Ehre_ – (German), translated: “Blood and Honour”; the motto of the Hitler Youth.

* * *

Dead leaves fell silently to the ground below; colours of golden yellow and crimson red detached from the branches of trees that dotted the city streets. Nature was continuing its endless cycle, slipping into the slumber of autumn; even in this harsh industrial environment. The darker half of the year was just beginning.

The tiny feet of happy children stepped on the lifeless foliage that covered the area with little care as they ran along the sidewalks. Screaming and giggling with joy, they were celebrating the coming events of a most promising evening. Tonight was All Hallows’ Eve or what they knew it as, “Halloween”. A night filled with mischief and superstition, a night of games and candy, a night of terror and suspense. Of course none of this meant anything to the tall and mysterious figure that followed not far behind them.

It was a man dressed in a stylish red leather trench coat and dark green biker pants; a demon hunter known as Dante.

Dante was able to appreciate the holiday for different reasons as compared to the typical joys of the festivities. To him this night was another night for slaying evil beings of the Underworld, the only difference was on this particular night the demons always came out in full force as the border between the human world and “otherworld” became thin. It was a free get in pass for entities of all kinds, both harmless and malicious; while under normal circumstances only the strongest of these said forces could make themselves physical in the human realm unless these universes were forced to join by means of complex black magick rituals. Naturally, Dante had no qualms with this; after all, on this exact date he was able to earn the most money than any other day of the year. The heavy influx of demonic hordes meant there would never be a dull moment, which suited Dante’s preference just fine. In fact, he didn’t even bother waiting around in his office for clients to come to him – the city council paid him to simply roam the streets and destroy whatever malevolent entity presented itself as he went along.

So far this year’s Halloween wasn’t as thrilling or profitable as he might have hoped; most of the demons he had encountered weren’t much of a challenge for him and it wasn’t farfetched to say that the battles were scarce. Some of the lower level monsters even tried to escape before Dante even chose between using his sword or his guns on the abjected spirits. It was almost as if Hell were trying to insult him with such inferiority.

“Looks like the demon realm is coming up a little short this year… Most of ‘em probably knew it wasn’t even worth the effort to even try wreaking some havoc since I’m around!”, he boasted as went along on his patrol, “I hope they got somethin’ planned to entertain me tonight!”

Unfortunately for Dante his entertainment would not appear during the afternoon, as he was only met with more subpar versions of common fiends like the Hell Pride and the like. Though this wasn’t altogether uncommon as only the strongest demons reserved their time for the darker hours; it was mainly the minimal numbers of the weaker pestilence that left him dissatisfied.

Even now the demon hunter was still strolling along the busy streets looking for a chance to put his abilities to use. A cold wind brushed against his face as the dusk air was sinking into the more chilling temperatures. The sound of raunchy disco music caught his ears; it was coming from an infamous strip club called, “The Love Planet.” Dante had hardly recognized what exact street he was on until now as he’d visited the gentlemen’s club a few times before. The bright lights of the recognizable sign made the handsome aggressor contemplate whether or not to go grab a quick beer and perhaps a nice girl to warm him up for just a bit; the idea was certainly more than tempting at the moment. Dante could already see himself relaxing in one of the cushioned booths after grabbing a tall beer from the bar while lovely and well-endowed women would keep him company as they showed off their biggest “assets” to him. Dante almost turned around as he walked past the house of pleasure, but he kept on walking knowing that he couldn’t afford to blow any cash on booze and girls at such a critical time. The bills were piling up and now he’d probably have to fight the greasy old governors to pay him due to the lackluster number of demons among other things; there was simply no room for fun tonight.

Dante winked at the structure as he said out-loud, “Looks like I’ll have to visit all you lovely ladies some other time…”, almost as if he were speaking directly to the busty, beautiful women of The Love Planet.

Still, he’d hoped to find some sort of excitement soon or else he was going to take one of his trusty handguns and start shooting himself in the head from the frustration and boredom. Dante decided that he’d return to his home and office, the Devil May Cry, to regroup for a little while before going back out.

By now the darkness of night had fully settled in and the holiday atmosphere had completely taken over. As he walked along he saw lights of houses all lit up with glowing skeletons and other various Halloween decorations, the cinnamon sweet scent of bonfires choked the air, and everywhere he looked Dante could see scores of children in their respective costumes in their quest for candy and prizes. The streets were filled with little groups of miniature ghouls as they went from door to door. In fact, it was making the walk that much more difficult as the sidewalks were more crowded than usual.

Suddenly the aggravated demon slayer felt a jab in his back. He turned around; a group of kids was standing there looking rather intently at him. One was a little boy dressed as a devil in red pajamas with a cardboard mask, another as a ninja of sorts, another as what seemed to be Abraham Lincoln, and a little girl who was going as a stereotypical witch. The devil, who seemed to be the leader of the group, spoke openly, “Give us some candy!”

Dante narrowed his eyes, “Ain’t cha supposed to say ‘trick-or-treat’, kid?”

The little red devil folded his arms, “Fine. Trick-or-treat. Now give us our candy!”

In response, Dante folded his own arms, mocking the little boy. “So what are you going to do if I don’t give you any? I hope you’ve got a good ‘trick’ up your sleeves.”

The devil boy shook his fist, “You better give us candy! You don’t wanna know what we’ll do if you don’t!”

In an irritated tone the demon hunter said, “Beat it you little brats! I don’t have your damn candy! Go get it somewhere else!”

The band of trick-or-treaters all looked at each other and nodded. They shouted in unison, “Get him!”

Suddenly they were throwing rocks, sticks, even some of their precious candy at Dante. Their target’s patience was wearing thin as they continued to assault him. Without warning the devil hunter scooped up the leader of the mischief-makers by the back of his pajamas and pulled off his mask. The boy’s chubby face was in complete shock and embarrassment. He screamed, “Hey put me down! I’ll tell my mom!” as he flailed his arms about.

Dante looked the boy straight in the eye, “You wanna know a little secret, kid?”

The unfortunate child stopped his fretting, “Uh…sure.”

The other children stopped their escapade as well, becoming dead silent and listening intently as to what the strange man had to say next.

Slowly the demon hunter’s eyes darted back and forth, seeing if anyone was around as he got ready to reveal his big secret, “You know a guy escaped from prison a few years back… Every night on Halloween he’d kidnap little kids just like you while they went trick-or-treating, and then…he’d take them back to his old rundown house…and throw them into this big iron oven and bake them until they were juuuust right…and then he’d eat them up like they were chicken!”

Abraham Lincoln wrung his hands together, “D-D-Did it really happen?”

Dante nodded his head, “True story. His house is just right down the street.”

All the children were stiff with fear as they glanced at each other before returning their attention on Dante once again. It was the little witch’s turn to speak, “Did they ever catch him?”

“Nope.”, the white haired half-demon responded. He blinked once before continuing on. “You wanna know an even bigger secret?”

Immediately all of the little ghouls shook their heads ‘Yes’ in anticipation. Dante eyed them all for a moment, saying not a word.

“Well…I’M THE PSYCHO THAT ESCAPED!”, he exclaimed as he laughed in an overdramatic sinister chuckle.

He dropped the tiny red devil and drew his sword, Force Edge, as he held it high over their heads. All the frightened children screamed in surprise. Quickly they turned and ran, trying to get away from the supposed child-eating cannibal convict; crying as they ran away. The ninja was so scared out of his wits he even abandoned his bag of goodies. Dante slightly grinned at the sight, rather pleased with his simple accomplishment. He took a piece of candy from the discarded bag and resumed his journey back to the withered building he called home.

“Too easy.”, he murmured to himself.

Although the incident had wasted some time it was almost worth it. It certainly gave him a good laugh if nothing else. Now it was time for him to get serious and make his way back and perhaps land a few jobs.

It was only a few minutes’ walk when his ocean blue eyes would gaze upon the neon pink lettering that boldly stated the iconic name of his shop. He was just about to climb the small set of steps to the front door when he felt it – the presence of something else watching him. Demon or human, he couldn’t tell at the moment but he almost wanted to bet it was the children he’d encountered earlier getting bold and curious to see if what he told them were true.

Dante rolled his eyes, “Come on, twerps… Haven’t you had enough already? Don’t make me come over there and gobble you up…”

The eerie laughter of a small child sounded off to the left. He turned to face the direction of the laughter. Down the street near a streetlight, three petite shadows looked at him with interest. They said not a word to him, only staring off in his direction. Their features were difficult for Dante to make out from his viewpoint but he was almost sure that it was not the group of children he’d ran into earlier. Already his curiosity was piqued by the odd and otherwise chilling situation. He began a slow and leisurely stroll toward the shadows, not attempting to say anything to them either. Somewhere off in the distance, he heard the beautiful voice of a woman singing a song; sweet words he couldn’t readily comprehend. As he approached, one of the shadows abruptly began to run to him. A tiny and deathly pale hand extended to him a small piece of paper. Dante looked at the small shadow; it was a little girl with fire-red hair full of angelic curls. She wore a tattered black dress that seemed as if it came off of an old porcelain doll, perhaps the most disturbing thing about her was the mask that she wore. It was the face of some rather odd sort of spirit; it was an odd orange-yellow colour that had the skin of petrified fruit. The face itself had only thin slits for eyeholes and a mouth jam-packed with broad, dull teeth and nothing more. Its smile was like that of an ogre, dumb and evil; yet almost as if it _knew_ something that no one else did. The demon slayer returned his attention back to the paper; taking it into his hand. It was an unmarked white envelope. Quickly he tore off the flap and took out what was inside; an ornate piece of paper laced with gold dust that read:

 

_You’re cordially invited to a special party…_

_A gathering to bring in a new era…_

_An experience you’ll never forget…_

The invitation bared no signature; there was only a swastika towards the lower half of the page. 

Dante’s eyes widened with shock, “ _What kinda party was I invited to? The Nazi party?_ ”, he thought.

With that, the strange little girl ran back to her unnerving comrades near the lamppost.

Dante questioned them sternly, “You mind telling me what this is about?”

Upon examining each of the shadows he realized all three of them were little girls like the one that gave him the letter – donning the same clothes and having the same perfect, red curls.

The bizarre children began to dance around the lightpost as if it were a Maypole; each giggling with ghostly laughter.

“It’s a perfect party! No others like it!”, they said in unison as they went skipping around the streetlight. The little dancers were truly disturbing in the yellow light of the lamppost; they cast no real shadow of their own on the ground like normal children do.

“Yeah I get that.”, the devil slayer said dryly, “Where is this ‘perfect party’?”

They stopped, looking at him with much intent. “So you’ll attend?!”, they exclaimed in their tiny voices.

“Sure. I could use a party or two.”, he replied.

This sent the eerie little girls into another burst of celebration. Screaming, “The son of Sparda is going to play with us! The son of Sparda is going to play with us!” as they continued running and jumping around the post.

Although Dante didn’t show it, the phrase struck him hard. It had been awhile since anyone called him ‘The Son of Sparda’ and he still wasn’t fully accustomed to the title. He shook off the feeling quickly.

“So I’m guessing you’re the ones who are going to show me the way to this big shindig?”, he asked.

Suddenly the saccharine and melodic female voice cut in again, much louder this time. Still Dante couldn’t make out the words. The girls seemed mesmerized by it; they languidly tugged on his trench coat, “This way…” The phantasmal trinity then dashed off into the night.

The devil hunter yelled, “Hey! Wait up you little brats!"; subsequently breaking into a run as he went after them.

A heavy mist was now creeping into the dark city, the air even colder than before.

It seemed no matter how fast he ran Dante was always so far behind them, keeping on their trail only by the sound of their little feet hitting the cobblestone pavement and their blood chilling laughter. Once in a while he’d see their little masked faces looking around a corner to see if he was still keeping up. The paths they took were nothing but twists and turns into various streets, hardly ever staying on one set road. The outlandish trio even made use of the city’s various alleyways as well. Dante found himself running into and jumping over many a trashcan or car. Nothing seemed to impede or slow down the mini-sized ghouls. If Dante had been a full-blooded human he’d never have been able to keep up; he might not even stayed with them long enough to get to this point. The race through the urban maze was even beginning to get dizzying even for him and he couldn’t tell how far or how long they’d been at this chase. All the while the sweet musical voice of the beautiful singer enchanted the runners in the cold night air with her song.

“ _Dammit this place better be real close and when I get there that woman better be a hot chick with a cold one waiting for me…_ ”, he mentally grumbled.

Just when it seemed that the pursuit would never end, the little girls stopped on an empty street. The moon was high in the sky as it shined down upon them; encasing them in a shimmery light. The worn out warrior took a moment to catch his breath as he waited for them to make the next move. Everything was silent and still; it annoyed Dante to no end.

He panted, “Well…heh…that was…fun… So where is this ‘once-in-a-lifetime’ bash? Don’t tell me you made me run all this way so we could stand out in the middle of the street.”

They didn’t respond to him, only remaining still as the unseen songstress drenched the atmosphere with her captivating notes. It was then that Dante realized where the direction of the voice was coming from; upon looking up the road he saw a large and foreboding mansion that definitely had not been there before. Even from this distance it was easy to see the fine structural detail of the manor. It was covered in gothic archways and awe-inspiring ramparts, and yet there was a military feel to the place; as if it actually served a purpose besides trying to look intimidating. It was surrounded by a tall black iron fence with sharp spikes at the tips of each pole; the only foreseeable entrance was a large double-door gate of similar construction.

Dante sighed, “Well someone certainly doesn’t want to piss on tradition. Can’t make our creepy hideout in some place like a good pizzeria.”

The pointed, stain-glass windows were all lit up; much was taking place behind the stone walls and Roman columns of the mystifying fortress.

Though he was somewhat aggravated with the stereotypical location of the apparent demon lair, Dante was still eager that there might still be some hope at the end of a mostly uneventful evening. Without warning, the little girls began moving towards the mansion. Yet, this time they didn’t run; rather they kept at a quick and steady pace. While he couldn’t tell because of the heavy mist, it almost seemed as if they were floating along as their legs couldn’t be seen and they hardly disturbed the sea of fog beneath them. The demon hunter didn’t bother to run after them, after all, it was obvious where the ghostly trio was going. It wasn’t long before they were far ahead of him, disappearing into the dense white vapor; which was now beginning to engulf him as well. A moment after he heard the loud metal clang of the huge iron wrought gate opening and closing. Soon the red knight’s own eyes would get an up close and personal view of the imposing entryway. The left door was slightly ajar, a sudden autumn breeze whisked through it, causing it to push the door open some more; as if the house was inviting him in.

He laughed, “They just can’t wait to get me in here…”, as he passed through the gates.

Dante spotted the little girls traveling along a stone pathway that led to a small grove of weeping willows that lay in front of the house itself. The singing voice was so clear here, though the words were of a language that was not found in the human realm; its owner was without a doubt inside the tiny forest. The eccentric trinity disappeared behind the trees as if to meet their caller.

Picking up his pace, the demon slayer ran towards the lot of willows; curious as to the identity of the songstress.

He brushed aside the long red leaves as he made his way through the garden. After passing a few trees he found himself in the middle of the grove; the willow trees here grew in a circular formation. He was standing in front of a large marble fountain. Stone forms in the shapes of old world devils pouring jars into the basin of the fountain. The three girls were sitting near it, quietly looking up at the singer; who was a young woman that was as beautiful as her enchanting voice. Her hair was a bright and unnatural ruby colour; her eyes were green as emeralds, her perfect shape defined by a tight black dress. It seemed she had been resting on a ledge of the enormous fountain for some time. She was finishing the last verses of her song when, with a graceful hand, began caressing the faces of all three children; slowly traveling back and forth to touch each cheek of the deranged masks. She pursed her lips in a reserved smile; acting as if she were completely unaware of Dante’s presence.

Casually approaching them, the white-haired man spoke, “Well I’m glad my hopes of you being a hot chick came true. You got any beer on you, babe?”

The woman’s smile grew wider, pearly white teeth shining; she said to him, “So you’ve finally decided to come. We are so glad. He’ll be especially pleased.”

Dante shrugged, “I’m not in the mood to deal with any ‘he’s tonight, dollface. You can drop off the kids at the movies and maybe you and I could find a nice place to get to know each other a little better. How ‘bout it?”

Her bright green eyes looked to the sky, as if to ponder something, “Hmm…’tis not time to go. One must be fashionably late on an occasion such as this. The night is still young after all…”

The siren’s hand ran through the strawberry blonde hair of the child directly in front of her; slipping into the soft curls. In an instant her arm tensed up as she gripped the exquisite locks, and then twisted the child’s head completely around. Oddly enough there was no snapping sound of her spine being demolished, as if the little girl’s head could swivel around like an owl’s naturally. The peculiar face of the ghoul mask looked at Dante with the same stupid anger, by some force the little straps that held it to the girl’s head broke off; leaving the mask to come tumbling down. Now the child’s face could be fully seen; a face that wasn’t a face at all. There was nothing, she had absolutely no features whatsoever. All that was there was the same deathly pale skin that covered the rest of her body. It was like some twisted joke.

With an almost innocent giggle, the strange woman rested her hand under the faceless child’s chin for a moment; almost as if giving her one-man audience a second to guess what might come next. She then braced her thumb and sent a long, black-polished fingernail into the smooth white skin. Once her thumb was completely submerged into the child’s flesh she began to pull it horizontally across the nonexistent visage. Despite the serious circumstance there was no blood, just a disturbing sound of wet meat being squished and worked with. The songstress began jabbing her finger in and out of the slit she had just made in the child’s face; forming a sort of mouth. After this she recoiled it and brought her hand a little higher where she used her index and middle finger to dig upward into the skin, after which she pulled outward; dragging and stretching the flap of alabaster flesh along until it was pointy and long like a nose. Her fingers unhooked themselves and with both hands resting over the top half of the face, she pushed them into the little girl’s head once again. After she was done there were two black holes that were side-by-side like empty eye sockets. Through the entire event the little girl did not move. It seemed the artist was not finished molding her masterpiece yet, she placed her left hand on the disfigured girl’s forehead. Slowly the elegant hand traveled down the small face, when it completed the motion and pulled away something changed. The black holes were now thin lines; closed eyelids with long eyelashes, the pointed chunk of flesh had holes from which to breathe from, and the slit where the mouth was supposed to be was now more defined; having actual lips. Suddenly the tiny lids opened; black doll eyes looked upon the man that stood in front of them and the tiny mouth opened; revealing jagged and crooked teeth. Now the faceless little girl had one all her own; no need for a gruesome mask anymore. She screeched at him. Suddenly her sisters took off their masks and turned around; the same disturbing countenance was their true form now as well.

Their sculptor whispered something to them. The first demon child’s body turned so that it was politically correct like her siblings’ before turning to Dante again. Now all their big terrifying eyes were on him.

Without warning they lunged at the demon hunter, who drew his sword in response. As the first one came at him, he made a single vertical slice; cutting the malicious golem child in half. The second managed to land on him and began biting at his arm viciously. Quickly the valiant warrior pulled out one of his beloved handguns and fired directly into the head of the devil, which disintegrated into dust like the one before it. The final opponent intended to push him back onto the ground and sink her malformed teeth into his throat. He jumped up and ran a small distance away from the fountain; he then turned around to look at the rabid girl. She was levitating a few feet off the ground, her legs swaying faintly swaying back and forth due to the miniscule force of the breeze that swept into the area. After snapping her jaws a few times, she rushed at him. Dante returned the belligerent gesture by charging at her as well. In seconds it was all over, the crimson knight had thrust the point of his sword into the little girl’s chest so hard it was coming out her back; she too turned to dust like her sisters.

Dante slung the blade over his shoulder as he reverted his attention back to the unholy siren that created the twisted beings.

She was still sitting on the ledge of the fountain as before; her eyes were closed as if she were brooding over the outcome of the swift battle. The young woman sighed, “You broke all of my dolls, you mean boy…”

The devil slayer chuckled, “I’m sorry, a pretty girl like yourself shouldn’t waste time playing with dolls. Why don’t you try playing with me instead?”

Her entrancing green eyes looked into his as she smiled, “Hmm…perhaps I’ll oblige you… We still have time.”

The siren stood up and flipped a strand of blood-red hair. Her entire body went stiff, her muscles tightened all over, then she began to convulse violently. A sickening sound of bones cracking and tissue tearing filled the air. The siren began screaming hoarsely, her beautiful voice turning into something indescribable. It seemed as if she were growing and mutating before his very eyes. After the sudden transformation finished its course, she was a totally different creature; she stood about nine feet tall, her black dress in tatters, her hair had grown all the way down to her feet, her arms were immensely long with nails that were as large as broadswords, her legs experiencing a similar result, and her face seemed to suffer the worst of it all. It was as if the skin on her face had been stretched to accommodate this harsh change. Her lips were forced apart in a constant, dreadful smile, eyelids had been pulled back to where it almost seemed as if her bright green orbs were about to pop out of her skull.

Dante sighed, “Oh man, this is definitely going to complicate our relationship, babe.”

The witch snickered, “Come now, Dante! I fancied you so! Why don’t you just try it on for size?!”

She swiped at him with one of her impossibly long arms. He rolled himself sideways; dodging it. Her clawed hand came down, her palm slamming him into the ground. The female beast raised it again in preparation for another downward strike, yet Dante picked himself up and got out of the way. He returned the attack by drawing both handguns and began to hammer wildly on the triggers; the flash of the shots like miniature volcanoes. She cried out as the magic bullets hit her chest. The witch recovered and flicked her hair; chunks of it slithering like a serpent as if it had came to life. In a flash it lashed out at the smaller opponent, mashing him against a willow tree. Dante grunted in pain as his back collided into the hard bark of the tree. When he regained his will, he realized he had dropped his cherished guns, Ebony and Ivory, in the attack as they were lying not far off from the brutal sorceress. He pulled the Force Edge from its sheath; glaring at the witch. She was cackling away in that horrible voice. Dante growled and made a bold dash in her direction. He was nothing but a flash by the time he got near his adversary, he swung the great sword. Despite his amazing agility she was just as fast, she blocked the attack immediately with her sharp nails. He pulled back and swung again; and again she obstructed the strike. The crimson warrior attempted a descending vertical slash; still no success. It continued in this fashion for another minute or so, when finally Dante was able to get near one of his prized firearms. Just as he defended an attack from her, he quickly scooped up his Ebony handgun and fired a single shot right into her face. The witch screamed in rage as she reflexively brought a hand over the wound. It was then that the devil slayer thrust the Force Edge and impaled the injured siren; twisting the weapon after pushing it deep into her. Again she howled in pain and her hand struck him sideways, knocking him backward. The defeated sorceress grasped the blade by the handle and began pulling it out of her body; tossing it to the ground. She immediately began her odd and unsettling ritual of transforming back into her more appealing form.

When it was finished she was exactly as Dante had first seen her, looking as if the scuffle had never even taken place. Running a hand through her hair, she giggled, “Well I can see why my half-sister Nevan gave herself to you.”

The devil hunter scoffed, “Ugh. Family relation, eh? So that’s why this situation is familiar…”

Ignoring him as she had before, “I should think that you’ll be entertaining me again in the future.”

Coughing, he mumbled, “Yeah, can’t wait.”

The vixen looked to the stars again, “Ah! It is time! Come Dante… Lick your wounds and come inside…”

She turned and started making her way up a sizeable amount of stairs leading to the mansion itself. The young man sat up and brushed some of the dirt off of his clothes, gathered the rest of his fallen weapons, and walked up the stairs as well to join her.

Once he was standing next to her, he realized they weren’t alone on the dimly lit patio – skeleton faces gawked at the new comers through eyeless sockets almost hidden by the brim of a military helmet. A grey field uniform covered their bodies; a few medals and insignias were dotted about the lapels and breast of the service coat. An eagle carrying something in its talons was the most notable of them, though Dante had trouble seeing what it was.

Even in the bleakness of the dark it was obvious that they were soldiers from another time; their last and only mission was to stand guard at the door of this foreboding structure with rifles in hand.

Despite the fact that the undead soldiers reframed from any form of communication, it seemed they were able to sense that these two souls were invited to the event as they opened the heavy doors for them; a wave of many favorable scents invited them in as they stepped inside.

The doors closed behind them quickly, sealing them off from the outside world.

Before Dante could look at his surroundings cries of adoration from a small gathering of demons near the foyer greeted the singer instantaneously; all dressed in high class 19th century garments. She conversed with them only for a few seconds as a busy celebrity usually does with adoring fans. After a few words with the aristocrats and excusing herself from the rest of the conversation she grabbed Dante by the hand and led him deeper into the house.

Her step was quick as she made her way through the imposing hallways and lavish salons. Even though he could only have a brief glance at everything he passed by, it was easy to see that the manor was as grand on the inside as it was on the outside; expensive furnishings filled each corner, ornate and macabre paintings hung on every wall, marble sculptures of every shape and size occupied spaces in between. Other odd and indescribable treasures packed the many rooms to their capacity. Despite the extravagant setting, all of it seemed rather sinister; as if everything contained within this place was somehow tainted. Even the light from the candles that illuminated the place seemed as if it had been polluted by iniquitous forces as they flickered and gave off unnatural glows. Every once in a while he’d see more party-going fiends celebrating or another undead soldier guarding a particular space as they went along.

A harsh scream broke Dante’s half-hearted inspection – they were close to their destination.

After turning another corner they arrived at the entrance to a colossal and mesmerizing parlor. It was one of the largest gatherings Dante had ever seen; even more so for demonic hordes such as these.

As soon as the vixen set one foot on the glossy marble floor the room became silent, all commotion ceased; faces of all kinds, some unimaginably ugly and some breathtakingly beautiful, looked at her with curiosity and respect.

With her hands held high, she exclaimed, “Fret no more, for I have arrived!”

The crowd cheered, loving her grandiose “fashionably late” entrance. They raised their drinks to her, shouting welcoming praises as they did so. The woman couldn’t get enough; she dashed out into the middle of the room and began spinning wildly on the points of her toes like a ballerina. Her arms gracefully stretched outward before making intricate gestures that seemed to be a part of some unnamed dance. By some magick, her feet suddenly began to lift off the ground. With each revolution she got higher and higher till she was literally floating near the ceiling. Her long tendrils of hair and flowing dress were swirling colours as she spun. The chamber was now filled with applause, some even stomping their feet in uproar. The siren adored it; her enchanting laughter was heard even over the myriad of voices. She sang a high note for her audience, to which they lauded her for. Her voice kept going with it for another moment, and then fell backward in a slow descent. She hovered over the ground for but a split second, gently setting her feet upon the floor. After an additional minute of clapping and shouting, she waved her hands to silence them.

A mischievous grin appeared on her face as she said, “Of course I can’t forget to introduce the guest of honour, our beloved, Dante…”

Now all the attention shifted to Dante; their eyes all began to glare at the famous half-breed that hunted them as he stood in the archway. It was obvious they were pleased with his presence, though not in a pleasant way. Their smiles were full of lethal intent, some whispered to each other as they looked upon him; most likely conspiring to kill him. The feeling was mutual for Dante; he had half a mind to shoot up the place in that moment if he wasn’t so curious to see where this was going. Soon they returned to whatever business they had been carrying on before they had been interrupted.

It was at this point that a woman approached the siren; she was dressed in a flowing blue and white gown fit for only the royalty of the 1700s. Her hair was piled high in a Belle Poule coif, lined with sparkling jewels and shimmering pearls; though to Dante it looked more like a decorated white-blonde beehive. The woman completed her costume with a white powdered face with rosy blush cheeks and deep red lips. She was dressed as none other than the infamous French queen, Marie Antoinette. They greeted each other with a kiss on each cheek.

She spoke warmly to the songstress with a light accent, “Morgana! You kept us waiting for far too long!”

The more she spoke the more Dante was beginning to wonder if the demoness had invaded the corpse of the long-dead queen and was parading around in her body as the strongest of demons had the power to “reanimate” the dead and use their forms for their own games. In fact, a number of demons in the place had probably stolen the appearances they had for the evening.

The siren apparently named Morgana responded, “Oh you know it never pays to be on time to a party! Only the most celebrated people arrive way after everyone else has! It didn’t help that I had the most terrible time of tracking down our man of the hour you know!”

Marie Antoinette rolled her eyes, “Ah yes. He’ll be so pleased! Hurry up and get on stage! We’re all dying to hear a song from you!”

Morgana nodded, “Well I suppose I shouldn’t keep everyone waiting any longer. We must talk later!”

Without further hesitation the songstress made her way to an ornate platform towards the back of the room. The demons below her gave her their consideration once again. Her lips parted to release her luscious voice; it filled the room just as it had engulfed the air outside. She seemed to be singing an aria from an unnamable Latin opera. Already the audience was excited to have music to accompany their nefarious deeds for the evening. In an instant black cloaked entities joined her on stage; the dark wraiths began to pluck at the strings of harpsichords and violins that were summoned with them. The instruments escorted her immaculately in her song; even Dante was impressed for a brief period of time. Satisfied with the addition of the music, the audience slipped into their previous activities as the band played on.

The fraudulent monarch turned to Dante, “Welcome, monsieur. He will be glad that you decided to come.”

Annoyed, the devil slayer scoffed, “Oh really? And just who is ‘he’? I’m getting really tired of this crap! Look lady, I’ve been dragged all over town to get to this damn party! I wanna cut to the chase!”

The regal demoness took him by the arm, “He will see you when he is ready, but first, enjoy yourself. It would be a shame for you to miss out on all the festivities. It is All Hallows after all.”

The young man did nothing to protest as she led him on through the grand hall. Now they were delving deeper into the mob of party-goers. It was the first time that Dante was actually able to see individual faces, some demons were dressed in Victorian and medieval wear; while others wore more modern clothing; fully clad in black leather outfits, looking as if they were coming out of some bizarre club. Interestingly enough, there were also demons whose true forms were nothing short of monsters with wings, horns, and all things imaginable that set themselves apart from their humanoid counterparts. It seemed that these particular souls reveled in showing off their terrifying shapes; these monstrous beings decorated their bodies with diamond encrusted bangles, gold braces, and other fine jewelry along with an array of menacing tattoos styled in various shapes. The demon slayer saw that the reanimated infantry were also roaming about in here as well, standing guard over the revelry; it was probably the first time he’d actually been able to get a good look at their badges – they were decorated with Swastikas and other honors given by their fatherland of Germany during Adolf Hitler’s reign. The realization made him recall the mysterious invitation he’d received earlier, he wasn’t sure what purpose it all served but he didn’t like it either way.

However, what was taking place inside the chamber was as varied and unpredictable as the monstrosities that currently populated it; some were simply conversing with one another, and others were taking place in much more immoral activities.

In dark corners, in the seats of expensive armchairs and even on the floor the attendees of the bash were openly involved in strange, promiscuous behavior. Naked corpses hung upside down in a row on one side of the room on a rack; demons would swarm around the dangling wrists and let their goblets be filled with blood; some simply drank right from the source. After they were drained completely dry the cadavers would be tossed to whatever creature wanted to chew on them. Others would pluck still living persons from cages beside the hanging rack and begin eating them in savage fashion. The more ethereal spirits would swarm around a living person and attack them until a glowing orb, their soul, escaped from them; to which they’d feed to their more tangible counterparts or devour it to sate their own hunger. Almost every evil entity in the room was drunk on the blood, meat, and soul of humans.

Apparently people weren’t just a food source; they were also slaves of pleasure here. When the devils were not involved with each other, they would use a human as a sexual outlet; right down to having restless orgies. Various forms danced in this sinful rapture, sometimes he could see nothing but a swirling mass of slithering limbs and captivating moans. He felt a pang of disgust at the sight of the unfortunate mortals who had to take on the less human-like fiends. Other devils seemed to prefer singular pairings, greedily taking a partner for themselves as Dante observed one muscular incubus having his way with a woman that he’d just grabbed off the floor; seducing her into lying down with him onto a burgundy-coloured fainting couch. Then there were the games, odd ones that involved all sorts of rules and sickening plays. Dante observed one between two demons dressed in pinstripe suits sitting at a table, playing with cards that he had never seen before. They seemed to be gambling, the chips were the fingers and toes freshly chopped off an old man who was forced to sit at the very table; watching his own body parts being reduced to a component of a game. Another involved more childish-like divination endeavors; a young blonde woman was on her knees in a circle of men. She carved an apple into thin slices, and then threw the peels over her shoulder where they landed on the floor. It seemed that the slices were supposed to dictate the letter of her next lover’s first name.

Before Dante could actually see who “fate” had chosen for her Marie Antoinette interrupted his thoughts, “I hope you will find some refreshment in our house.”

They stopped at a large banquet table piled high on silver and gold platters flooded with outlandish dishes that he couldn’t even begin to guess what they were or what they were made of.

She grabbed a chalice filled to the brim with blood and offered it to him, “Have a drink.”

Her eyes were a shining yellow like a cat’s, she seemed more beautiful than ever; though one obviously wouldn’t want to become too enamored with those eyes.

The demon hunter instantly replied, “No thanks. Not my kinda deal.”

Exhaling in disappointment, the regal woman said, “Monsieur, you really ought to try and have some fun!”

Another scream pierced through the many other noises in the room, perhaps the same one from earlier. It came from a particular area near the center-left of the room. A great wooden wheel affixed to a standing pole was there; resting upon a large pedestal. Tied to the wheel was a naked man, his entire being was emaciated, stiff and pathetic; Dante couldn’t guess how long he’d been bound to the cruel mechanism. Three buxom femme fatales wearing nothing but see-through scarves on the most private parts of their bodies were standing near it. Two of the ladies stood at either side; their hands pushed and pulled on knobs that were placed on the outer edges of the device; spinning it when it lost its momentum. The third beauty placed herself directly in front of the primitive machine and stood at the ready with a large and terrifying hammer. She struck him at random; sometimes hitting him in the face, sometimes hitting him in the stomach. Perhaps that was the worst part of it – not knowing where one would be struck. The unfortunate soul cried out in misery each and every time. The women and the little audience that had gathered around the wheel were laughing at him with perverse satisfaction.

Marie Antoinette caught him looking at the twisted form of entertainment, briefly glancing at it herself as she spoke, “Feeling sorry for him are you? Why grow so fond of something that breaks so easy? Something so…weak?”

Before he could answer her she walked away, moving towards a cage near the spinning wheel of pain. It was packed with people, most of them probably kidnapped and taken against their will from the city.

She batted her eyes at the demon hunter, “You need to open your mind and let go of your clouded morals…”

She opened the door and snatched a brown-haired boy of about fifteen years of age by the hand and pulled him out forcefully. From there she led him to a large black caldron not far off from it; a fire was burning hot underneath it. The water was boiling furiously, causing the many apples inside it to toss and churn about. Obviously it was to be a harsh take on the usually benign pastime of bobbing for apples.

The demoness grabbed the boy by the neck and began pushing him closer to the lip of the large pot. Callously she laughed, “Care for an apple?”

Already the boy was just inches above the scalding water. The young boy screamed for help. Dante could hold himself back no longer. He pulled his sword from its sling and ran toward the cruel temptress. In the blink of an eye the sharp edge was right at her delicate throat. It would be just as quick for the valiant warrior to take the threat to the next level. Almost as soon as he took action, all the German soldiers in the vast parlor responded by surrounding him and targeting him with their guns. Once again the room stood still, the eyes of the miscreant spirits were glaring with fiery hostility. They were all ready to tear into the red-clad warrior in a flash.

“I think you’d better let the kid go. Unlike the human you’re posing as I don’t need a guillotine to cut your pretty little head off. You got me your majesty?”, he growled.

Her deep red lips formed a smile, “This body is my own, mon ami…I can show you if you’d like sometime…”

Her hand released its grip on the boy. The child instantly took the opportunity for an escape; running out of the room to get away from the house of depravity. After he was long gone Dante let the sword rest at his side.

With much venom in his voice he said, “I think I’ve had enough of this ‘party’. Get to the damn point. I wanna know why I’m here.”

The demoness fixed a loose strand of hair, “Very well. We shall have to see if all is ready.”, she turned her gaze to a man sitting in a green armchair near a gigantic open fireplace and commanded, “Darius, bring the head.”

He was a strange gentleman just like the rest, donning a bowler hat and a black sports coat and grey slacks. Silently he nodded and reached for a red oak box on a table next to him. With a light step he approached them both and opened the lid for the woman. She dipped both hands into the mysterious chest and pulled a skull from its depths. It was no ordinary skull as it gave off a strange brown metallic sheen whenever the unholy lights in the room would shine upon its surface.

It was a Brazen Head, a prophetic tool of medieval belief that was supposed to correctly answer any question that was asked of it. Many scholars and prominent figures of the Dark Ages owned these supposedly omniscient devices, yet none of them were believed to be true. The energy this one gave off spoke otherwise of its authenticity.

Holding it level to her face with one hand, the woman spoke to it, “Where is our handsome knight’s next adventure to be?”

For a moment nothing happened, and then all at once it seemed the voice of an archangel spoke;

 

” _Your knight is to travel up winding stairs and expansive corridors._

_His mirror image waits for him on high, sitting idly by in somber chambers._

_Prepared he must be, for what happens next is no surprise._ ”

 

Though the voice was loud and clear the skull’s jaws never moved, in fact it seemed to do nothing at all. Marie Antoinette raised an eyebrow at the demon slayer before setting the bronze figure back in its compartment; as if she were contemplating the ominous prophecy by the macabre device. Quickly, silently, and with ever constant grace the demoness moved towards the only exit of the room. She motioned to Dante with her hand, “This way.”

He followed in compliancy as he had with the creatures that brought him to this point.

They left the entertainment hall in silence; angered gazes following them right to the very moment they disappeared from sight. It seemed every unholy soul in the house knew about the disruption that had taken place only moments ago, as every occupied chamber and inhabited corridor they entered greeted Dante with the same intense and unkind scrutiny; following the pair as they passed by whatever demon looked at them. None of the creatures dared to make a move on him; they also knew what was in store for their enemy. After slipping through some more rooms about the mansion, they entered a smaller library. It was relatively normal like one would find in any well-furnished home, though upon glances at some of the spines of the books Dante knew these books would not likely be found in the human realm. Throwing the notion of the odd compendiums and ritual books out of his mind, he noticed there was a bare white wall oddly placed between two tall bookshelves at the back of the library.

She stood next to the open space and pointed, “Through here.”

Dante wanted to shoot a few snide comments her way about the stupidity of such a layout but he kept his thoughts to himself; wanting nothing more than to get the answers to what was really going on and waste time on nothing else. Slowly he advanced to the wall, he pressed his hand up against it; this caused the wall to ripple and churn as though it were made of water.

He grunted in annoyance but still said nothing, merely walking into the fake obstruction. The warrior waited a moment to see if Marie Antoinette would follow, but the lack of her appearance brought him to the conclusion that he was on his own from here.

“Doesn’t matter. I wouldn’t be able to take one more minute of her anyway.”, he said to himself.

All that was in front of him was a colossal granite staircase, with candelabrums on either side of the banisters. Quickly he ascended them, only to find more stairs – a lot more. It seemed that he was near the bottom of a grand spiral staircase. Dante groaned in agitation and began running, not wanting to waste any more time. Each step he took on the cold silver-grey stone floor audibly resonated through the tower. Every so often on his journey upward he’d see large oak doors like the ones that were used downstairs, however, upon approaching them they would miraculously vanish as if they had never had been built into the structure at all. Though he didn’t like the idea of being subtly guided by means such as this, he knew it would eventually bring him to the enemy he so desperately wanted to run his sword through at the moment. So he pushed onward to the top of the medieval-like tower. It took him almost ten minutes to reach the top; seeing the end in sight once he had rounded another corner and was greeted by a simple white door with a golden knob that glinted in the light of the sconces. By now he was feeling annoyed by the repetitive scenery and was glad to see something different.

“Better not be more stairs…”

He opened the door, to find a long, darkened hallway. There were many more of these same doors on both sides, the sight of them stretched on into the dark. Staring at such a setting made Dante almost dizzy, even more so than when he saw the stairs.

“Great. Now this bastard is going to make me wander around this funhouse until I find him. I’m gonna enjoy killing this one. I’m DEFINITELY going to enjoy killing this one!”, the devil hunter fumed.

It was then that he heard the loud caw of a raven, the flapping of its feathered wings followed soon afterward. The rapping of its claws sounded against the floorboards as it landed near him. His eyes were able to pick up its silhouette in the dim light of the sconces on the walls. It hopped around for a moment; making its trademark call once more to him, as if it came for him.

Dante ran a hand over his face, “Oh that’s perfect. A damn bird is gonna show me around now. Who the hell is the genius behind this setup?”

Shrugging the irritating observation away, he pressed on into the poorly lit corridor. The raven flew ahead of him, landing on the floor and looking back at him every so often to see if he was keeping up. At certain points they’d manage to make a turn at an intersection but for the most part the trip was straightforward, though Dante couldn’t see how anyone managed to get around with everything looking the same. Then again if something was different he wasn’t able to see it given the circumstances. For the most part he only followed the black bird by the various noises it made. Every sound was easily heard in the vast and dead silent hallway, from the abrasive noises of the raven to the simple, heavy steps of his boots on the floor. The journey continued in this way for some time before they finally turned another corner. A foreboding black door was dead ahead of him. The demon slayer looked around for a moment; he realized the guiding raven had disappeared.

“Well I guess this is it. ‘Bout freaking time.”, he mocked.

With much anticipation he kicked the door, sending it to fly open as he burst into the room; ready to confront whatever came at him. He had expected to be staring into the face of some vile and grotesque beast akin to the Devil himself waiting for him, yet there was nothing of that nature to be found. The space was a bedchamber, and an extravagant one at that. The floor was carpeted in arabesque designs in a lush, crimson hue. A large golden canopy bed fit for a king lay off to the left. It was enclosed between two statuettes shaped in the forms of lions. A full-body mirror was in the top-right corner of the room. A rather intimidating painting of people being burned at the stake hung on the southern wall to his right. A single candelabrum next to the door was the only source of light besides an impressive and giant lancet shaped window to the north, which let the rays of the full moon come pouring in. In front of that was a grand desk with a menacing chair to match; looking like it might have belonged to a war strategist. Strangely enough a crimson banner with a black-on-white swastika hung over it; the banner’s pole was affixed the same wall that the morbid painting was.

“So where’s Hitler?”, Dante asked himself.

It certainly felt as though he were not alone in the room. It was filled with unnerving silence; much different from the silence of the depressing hallways he’d just came from. He was almost half-heartedly hoping that the bothersome bird would appear in here with him in desperation for some commotion. The demon hunter took another step into the room. It was then that he felt as if something had changed in the room. He glanced at the mirror; it almost felt as if it had been recently disturbed as its axis was slightly off from before. In fact, he had thought he had seen something _come out of it_ but he blinked from the strain of the constant staring. He wondered if it was simply the moonlight playing tricks on him. He stood before it, looking at his own reflection for a moment.

It was then that a familiar voice broke the silent atmosphere, “Having a good time, Dante?”

Before he even looked towards the direction of the male voice he knew who it was.

“Vergil!”, he shouted.

His gaze immediately moved to the area of the desk. He found his identical twin sitting there upon the elegant chair in a black uniform of sorts, though he was not alone. He was surrounded by young boys of varied ages in what looked to be boyscout outfits, and standing next to the desk was a distinguished looking blonde woman, the kind of beauty that was only found in innocence and purity. A style that was all her own; her naturally wavy and curly hair was cut a little past her ears. She wore a modest but fitting lavender dress from the 40s era. She seemed to be staring off into nothingness, as were the boys.

It was then that his brother said to him, “For once I am actually pleased to see you. It’s been a long time since we last met.”

“Yeah when I kicked your ass in Hell!”, the demon hunter forcefully spoke.

Vergil simply laughed, “Ah, yes. I remember that. A lot has changed since then…”

The sinister twin rose from his chair, like a king from a throne; he walked to the front of the grand desk. It was then that Dante was totally able to take in what he was wearing. It was the iconic pitch black uniform that struck fear into the hearts of many; a uniform commissioned to demand respect and absolute submission. Even now it was doing its job. Looking at his brother was like looking at a phantom of a dark past, the clothes were extremely authentic; from the peaked cap to the jackboots. The image was enhanced by various medals of Nazi regalia, small shining emblems dreamed up by a depraved mind; complete with silver braided shoulderboards and the infamous red armband showcasing the symbol known by many modern cultures as a sign of prejudice and hate. Though none of them were as terrifying as the dreaded Totenkopf, the death’s head, insignia placed upon the band of his hat. The triple oak leaf patch on his collar signified him as someone of importance, if Vergil had been alive at the time of the tragic events of Adolf Hitler’s administration he would have obviously been a high-ranking official.

For a moment, the lesser brother glanced at the little troop of boys that encircled the Schutzstaffel imitator. At first glance they seemed like any other boy, except for their unrelenting silence and military level obedience. However, these children were strict Hitler Youth, indicated by their own sets of badges and swastika armbands. Most of them were blonde haired and blue eyed, signs of supposed superiority. They longer they remained still the more evil they appeared.

“ _Yeah they’re boyscouts alright… Boyscouts from Hell…_ ”, Dante thought.

He quickly derailed that train of thought and looked to Vergil once more, “Uh Vergil…don’t you think all of this is a bit…”

His brother interjected him with, “Much?”, finishing his sibling’s statement; he answered it, “Just getting into the holiday spirit.”

The red warrior’s voice became flat, “Yeah how’d you get your costume? Giving handjobs to the Führer?”, adding a sarcastic German accent on the latter sentence.

Vergil chuckled slightly, “That’s very funny, Dante. Hold the witty jokes for a moment…”

He turned his gaze from Dante to the quiet angel. His eyes met hers and became intense; almost as if he were speaking to her without saying anything. Instantly she walked toward a broad chest at the end of the bed and opened it; taking a green metal case out. She placed it on the desk, unsnapped the latches on it; inside was a portable vinyl record player. The woman quickly went about setting it up and gently placed a single record on the spindle. After setting the needle down a light piano tune began to play. Although its melody seemed somewhat cheerful, it was rather remorseful and haunting; like a person trying to smile through a horrific downfall. Vergil offered his hand to the young lady, inviting her to dance. They began to move in a reserved and modest waltz; the handsome officer wrapping an arm about the innocent flower’s waist. His crystal blue eyes were still locked on hers, though it was not a stare of admiration; his expression seemed more inquisitive and yet somehow apathetic at the same time.

“Don’t mind us. Talk all you like, it’s what you do best after all.”, he said.

Dante was somewhat confused by the situation, he didn’t even have a response to the small insult his identical twin just threw his way.

“You don’t have anything to say? Well I’m as stunned as you are now.”, the dark clad officer said; still not taking his eyes off his partner.

It was the demon slayer’s turn to speak, “Yeah…I never pegged you as a dancer…”

Vergil smiled, “That’s not the only thing you didn’t catch onto. I thought the entire event would have said it all.”

Dante’s voice was full of vexation, “Look Vergil, I don’t give a shit about your little party! All I wanna know is what you’re up to and why you brought me here! And if I don’t get some answers I’ll let my sword do the questioning!”

Suddenly the SS official spun the woman out and then pulled her into his arms, her back to him. With a twisted smile he asked the crimson knight, “You want answers?”

The music played on for another brief moment before the song finally ended.

Dante nodded, “Yeah! ‘Cause things are gettin’ pretty fucked up here! You’re paling around with all the creepy crawlers of the demon realm in a tacky mansion while waltzing around as a freaking Nazi! What’s with you, Vergil?!”

His brother shook his head, “Dante… You still don’t get it do you? This means nothing, playing at ghosts of a pathetic past. Although I myself would like to know something…”

A black, gloved hand rested on the woman’s hip, she didn’t react to it; still staring off into space as she always had been. Slowly Vergil’s hand traveled down where it reached the end of her skirt, where it began to disappear underneath and up her dress. He brought his lips close to her ear and whispered something to her, still looking at his younger brother. A look of complete pleasure overcame the beautiful angel’s face. A small moan escaped her. It was the first time she’d actually seemed truly animate.

Instantly Dante felt bewildered by the awkward circumstance, “Uh… What the hell, Vergil?”

The wicked young man replied in a nonchalant tone, “You mean this? I was just trying to understand what it is that father found in these…things…”

Her choral elations became louder until they were screams of ecstasy. Her hand reached back to brush against the cheek of the highly decorated soldier. Within seconds her entire frame began to shake from the intensity of sensation and she let out another scream. It was then that she reached the height of her pleasure. After that her body slowly began to settle down. Breathing heavily, her eyelids became half-closed as if she were about to faint. Without warning that same hand that pleasured her so became a death trap as it closed around her throat. The young woman made no attempt to struggle; as if she didn’t entirely comprehend her situation.

“What do you think, Dante? Could she and I make a happy family just like mother and father?”, Vergil spat.

The very sight ignited a fire inside the usually laid-back rebel. His tone was nothing short of firm and direct, “Let her go, Vergil.”

The Schutzstaffel officer grinned, pretending to ignore him, “You don’t?” He then lifted his rather lenient victim high into the air with one arm; carrying on the conversation, “I didn’t either…”

Dante pulled both guns from their respective holsters, crossing them as he aimed. He shouted, “Put her down, Vergil! She has nothing to do with this!”

The little squad of Hitler Jugend reacted, one of them appearing in front of the vile man with an old Gewehr 43 rifle; blocking Dante’s shot.  The young boy aimed but remained motionless thereafter, his clear blue sky irises focused on his target. Calm and collected anger resonated from the child as he stared into the eyes of his target. The others seemed to be on standby with their own weapons resting against their shoulders; at the ready to defend their leader at the drop of a hat.

Smiling, Vergil stated, “Yes. Nothing at all… She means nothing at all… Just like the rest of them.”

His knuckles cracked as his grip became even tighter, or perhaps it was the sound of the bones in the poor angel’s neck being crushed. She became completely loose like a ragdoll, her arms and legs became limp as they hung in the air. Waves of silent hatred traveled up Dante’s spine as the spectacle of injustice concluded in front of his very eyes. He fired two shots into his twin’s defender, hitting him in the chest. The youth made a rather disturbing guttural growl and fell backward, becoming nothing but exploding dust as he hit the floor; all that was left was a small white skull. Before the vengeful warrior could fire at his brother the entire brigade of belligerent child soldiers formed a barrier; once again obstructing him.

Seething with rage, he yelled, “Yeah hide behind your little bastards, you coward!”

Vergil mocked him, “Ha! You think I need them?”

He let the lifeless body fall to the elegantly carpeted floor as if it were like dropping refuse into a trashcan. With a single gesture he commanded his young forces, in a second they flashed back to where they were originally standing near the window. Their commander continued on, “They’re very loyal aren’t they?”

Suddenly he turned to them, shouting, “Hail Victory!” as he performed the infamous “stiff armed salute”.

Immediately they reacted, returning the disturbing salutation and answering him in their native German tongue, “Sieg Heil!”

Even the young children had a moment to come alive it seemed.

The dark man briefly studied them as he went on, “Yes. Very loyal, but do I need them? No. After all…”

He took off his visor cap, tossed it onto the desk, and pulled a Luger from a holster attached to his thigh. A deep purple aura began to radiate from him like a wispy flame. He held the point of the pistol underneath his chin; subsequently he fired off a single shot into his head. Blood splattered everywhere, blending in perfectly with the ruby-coloured flooring. Vergil then brought the muzzle of the weapon to his right temple and fired again; more blood gushed out. He preceded with this self-mutilation another three times, shooting himself in other points of his cranium. The demented sibling then walked towards his heroic brother; his face bloodied and plastered with gaping holes. He threw the gun to the other side of the room and grabbed Dante’s hand that held the Ebony handgun; guiding it to the middle of his forehead. At that point the crimson knight felt a strange sensation in his mind, it was like something was there that wasn’t supposed to be. Somehow he randomly experienced the need to pull the trigger, and he acted upon it; the shot leaving another open hole in his brother’s skull. This caused Vergil to let go of his hand, and suddenly the odd feeling left him. A total of six bullets had now found their way into his insane sibling’s head.

Yet still he lived and breathed; finishing his previous sentence by saying, “What do I need them for?” as the normally mortal wounds began to become smaller and smaller. It wasn’t long before they closed up entirely, the only trace that any damage had been caused was by the massive amounts of cerise fluid on his face.

Despite the severity and madness of the otherwise outlandish scene Dante looked completely unaffected by the situation, “Big deal. It’s not like a couple bullets puts me down either.”

Vergil flashed him another proud smile, “Ah Dante… Your arrogance never dies. If it weren’t so annoying I think I’d almost admire that about you.”

He wiped the blood on his face with his hand, smearing it more than getting it off.

The red warrior pulled out his sword once again, “Look Vergil, if you’re gonna dick around then I’m just going to get things started whether you start making sense out of all of this or not. I’ll kill you for what you did.”

“Don’t tell me you’re still fretting over that woman. That would be a waste of energy. She’s already gone.”, the callous deviant replied as he pointed to the area where she was dropped.

His words were true; her corpse was no longer there. She had disappeared without a trace.

Dante’s gaze became intense with anger, “What did you do with her?!”

His brother responded with indifference, “She faded away just like they all do. They’re nothing but bad memories of a pitiful existence that got a second chance. I gave it to them, so I have the right to take it away when I want. Why does it matter to you?”

Yet again the noble rebel was met with something he didn’t quite understand. He shook his head, “Dammit Vergil! What the hell are you talking about?! Stop with the goddamn theatrics! Tell me what’s going on!”

Rolling his eyes, the SS officer replied, “Very well. Since you’re apparently oblivious to the answers that are right in front of you I’ll be blunt. I’m sure that you remember me falling into the deepest levels of Hell after our little duel in the netherworld…”

Dante’s only response was a quick nod, not bothering with words due to the desire for an explanation to the madness.

Vergil went on, “It was there that I met the Prince of Darkness, the Devil himself. I knew I had to fight him, I _wanted_ to fight him; just as our father did. I could give myself no other choice. For six long days we battled, I suffered countless injuries as did he. It was the greatest thing that could have ever happened to me. I, Vergil, a mere half-demon was able to wear him down. For a single moment I unknowingly absorbed some of his power… It was enough to make a full-blooded demon permanently, without the help of anyone or anything. I was my own creator. I could have vanquished my enemy right then and there, but I realized the sheer power I now had. I was the one who decided the outcome of things. I wanted to crush the world’s most renowned villain, the most despised creature in every way imaginable…so I let him live. From then on I went all over the infiniteness that is Hell, to create an army of my own. To take away what was his by my words or by my sword. Even now I’m just bidding my time until I feel it’s the perfect time to finish the conquest.”

The red knight shrugged, “Alright fine. Do what you want with that shithole, but why are you here then? Is the furnace busted down there? What do you want with the human realm?”

The demon spoke plainly, “Nothing.”

Dante groaned, “Ah jeez Vergil you’re giving me a headache! I thought I told you to stop being so fucking vague!”

“It’s not I who wants this miserable world of mankind…it’s them.”, he corrected.

Crossing his arms, the more heroic brother said, “Oh all your little buddies down stairs… I guess that shouldn’t surprise me.”

“Yes. Isn’t it funny how much they act like the very things they want to destroy? All their depravity… In some ways it’s hard to tell which is more evil, humans or demons.”, Vergil proposed.

Dante shouted, “If you’re so annoyed by them then why the hell are you trying to be their leader?! Why not destroy them along with the big scary Devil?!”

His twin sighed, “It’s as I told you before, Dante… None of them mean anything. Humans, demons… They’re nothing but pawns in my game. It doesn’t matter who does what and who doesn’t; who lives and who dies, just so as the final outcome is what I want it to be. For now that is the total humiliation and annihilation of the lord of the Underworld and I shall do it in whatever way I choose. I could obliterate every demon that confronts me yes, but it’s not as much fun to do the same thing over and over again. So I simply persuade some of them to follow me by giving them what they want; that being humans and the very realm they inhabit. Otherwise, I’m the only thing that is of worth and I dictate everything according to my desires. In your current state you’d never be able to conceive of such supremacy, dear brother. Which brings me to why I brought you here…”

Vergil finished wiping the remaining smears of blood on his face and came closer to his halfling kin. The two were now eye-to-eye.

The silver-haired demon said, “I will admit you did beat me the last time we fought, that in itself shows that you are capable. I wouldn’t expect anything otherwise from you, but as I said before, things have changed. I no longer need to see you as an enemy since I have what I want for the most part. The reason I have called you to this fortress is because I want to return to being the brothers we were when we were young… Dante, join me. You are my brother, the only family I have. I could not pass up the chance to offer something like this to you. I’m giving you the chance to join me and become a full-blooded demon as I have…”

Dante sternly gave his answer, “Not in a million years. I bet you’d like me to be your little shadow and follow you around… Well you’re crazier than I thought if that’s the case. I’ll never join you, Vergil. I don’t want any part of your big whacked out scheme. The fact that the same blood flows through our veins…that’s what really means nothing. As long as you keep on with this stupid power craze I’ll remain your enemy.”

Vergil closed his eyes and said nothing. When he did speak his voice was as calm as ever, “I see. You really disappoint me, Dante. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised though.”

“Well I really don’t give a shit. Now that we have all that out of the way, I suggest you pack up your eyesore of a house and your lame excuses for friends and go back to the pit you came from.”, the demon hunter retorted.

The vile twin scoffed, “I don’t think a half-breed has the right to be giving out orders. That’s my job now.”

Without hesitation the crimson knight withdrew the Force Edge, “Fine. I kicked your ass once I’ll do it again!”

The shining steel blade made a downward arc.

With his bare hand Vergil interrupted the strike; gripping the sharp edge as if it were nothing but a feather, “You keep forgetting that things are different now, Dante.”

Trying his best to push the sword into his opponent, the devil slayer growled, “I’ve killed demons bigger than you, asshole!”

The air was charged with intense energy; the brotherly hatred fueled the fire to the battle of brawn. Their gazes became linked as each side tried to subdue the other.

Dante wasn’t fully prepared for Vergil’s level of power, his brother’s constant remind of things changing was beginning to eat at him.

It was then that the demon got the upper hand; his immense strength ripping the weapon out of Dante’s grasp. He threw the magnificent blade away from them where it implanted itself into a wall in the room. Before the red knight could draw his trademark guns his enemy was already upon him. Vergil pinned him to the ground with one foot.

He mocked his valiant twin, “Well that was fast. What happened to all that fighting spirit, Dante?”

Rolling Dante onto his stomach, he then grabbed both of the demon hunter’s wrists and pressed them together. Vergil pulled a length of steel rope from a utility belt that was about his waist; binding Dante’s hands with it. Before his brother could attempt to break the cord he then produced a small orb from his pocket. It was a shining glass ball with sea-foam green clouds swirling around inside like a turbulent, neon sky. The devil tugged on his captive’s hair; pulling his head back to where he could see the object.

“This is little charm is going to weaken you, everything that you feel is going to be amplified beyond your imagination…”, his words sounding grim.

Suddenly Dante felt the inexplicable sensation that he felt earlier. This time something was telling him to open his mouth, and he did so without resistance.  The Nazi executive held the bright sphere over his lips; he then crushed it with one hand. The trinket broke with ease; the unknown liquid inside began to drip into Dante’s open mouth. It tasted rather sweet at first, then slipped into a harsh bitter aftertaste. Vergil let go of him and walked towards the ornate desk to rummage through a drawer. The halfling struggled to get to his feet; standing up for only a moment before falling to his knees. In minutes his muscles began to ache with a dull pain. His strength was draining from fast as did his will to move.

Dante mumbled, “What…the…hell…is that stuff?”

He heard no response from his brother, rather he saw him coming at him with a black cloth. Quickly Vergil wrapped it around his brother’s eyes, blindfolding him. The devil slayer’s crystal blue eyes were shrouded in black and obscured his sight almost completely. He felt the demon forcefully drag him by the arm along the room, and then the pain of his back being slammed against a wall. His lungs struggled for air. Suddenly he heard the sound of small feet marching on the soft velvet carpet.

He heard Vergil’s voice command, “Ready!”

The click of rifles being cocked was like a mad tapping of fingers on a table. Before their leader got to “Aim!” Dante realized what was happening – he had organized his little group of Aryan fanatics into a firing squad.

After another pause, “Fire!”

Then the deafening roar of gunfire hit his ears like the bullets that assaulted his body; metal embedding itself hard into him. He cried out. Dante had been shot before but the pain was never this severe. The impact of the shots forced him to the ground, the blindfold slipped off his right eye to where he could see somewhat. The boys had been lined up in perfect formation; the barrels of the rifles were still smoking. Vergil was standing off to the side of them with his hands behind his back; looking domineering as ever. Perhaps he even fit the part almost too well. He shouted, “Again!”

The demon hunter cringed at the order. He would have to experience the ghastly ordeal all over again.

“Ready!”

The faces of his “executioners” retained the same apathetic and cold stare.

“Aim!”

He watched the young boys adjust their aim to his position on the floor.

“Fire!”

Small bursts of light exploded from the barrels as the shots came hurdling toward him. The sting of the bullets was just as painful as the first set. Dante’s vision blurred from the shock. The carpet around him felt warm and wet with his own blood. It hurt to move, it hurt to even lay still; his whole body was aching with a deep throbbing pain.

In spite of his wounds he managed to curse Vergil with a weak, “…fu..cker…”

A small grin of pride appeared on the officer’s face, “Heh. Don’t worry, Dante. You won’t die…yet.”

He then turned to the squadron of youth and ordered, “Leave us.”

The Hitler Jugend saluted him and yelled, “Blut und Ehre!”

Just like the unknown woman, they too disappeared in a flash of smoke and sand; without a trace.

Upon their departure the demon walked over to the injured halfling. As he stood over the crimson knight he said, “Now that we’ve broke the ice, I think it’s time to take things a step further.”

He pressed the tip of his left boot into a wound near Dante’s shoulder; the pain began to flare up even worse than before, causing the young man to grit his teeth. After this Vergil dragged him to the bed by his hands, a trail of darker red appeared on the ruby flooring from the unfortunate’s blood. Then the Schutzstaffel official forced his weakened challenger onto the extravagant bed. As the devil slayer’s body settled onto the soft material, the pure white sheets became stained with red as well. Vergil folded his arms, “Hmm…what to do now that we’re alone? How can I make this night more hellish for you, Dante?”

His icy blue eyes looked his physically inhibited sibling up and down; a spark of glee shined in those cold irises, “Yes… As sickening as it may be, I think that might be the most fun for me and it would certainly leave a mark on you, even if it’s only on your wasted mind. After all, I promised you a party you’d never forget!”

The demon slayer instantly became reluctantly curious as to what he meant by the threatening premonition. Before he could say anything on the matter, his demonic twin was already carrying out whatever strange intentions he had in mind.

The devil held out his hand, his palm upturned and open. A black mist began swirling and pooling in his open hand, little by little it seemed to be taking on a shape. When his dark magick completed its master’s desire it had formed into a small draw-string bag made out of dark velvet cloth. Vergil pulled on one of the sides and slid his hand inside it, after this his hand returned with something in his grasp. The cloth sack dissolved into nothing; giving him room to dump the unknown contents of the draw-string bag into his now empty palm. In his hand lay a rather harsh looking black leather choker. A black and silver Iron Cross emblem dangled from a single metal loop hooked to the front of the unkind neckwear, the black metal alloy of the cross had a glossy purple sheen to it when the light hit it just right. The strange jewelry made Dante uneasy.

Vergil leaned over him, bringing his face unnervingly close to Dante’s. It wasn’t the kind of close encounter that was just for intimidation, there was also another intention.

 The demon gazed into the weakened young man’s uncovered eye. Just as Dante was getting ready to say something to interrupt the uneasy silence and uncomfortably close proximity between them Vergil cut him off with a most unexpected action – he closed the gap between their faces with a chilling and soft kiss. The demon slayer was taken completely by surprise, his arms and legs locking up for a brief moment from shock.

It was Vergil who broke the light and alarmingly taboo kiss, simply pulling himself up as if what he did was the most normal thing in the world.

Dante quickly turned his head and spat, trying to shake off the feeling that his brother’s lips left on his own.

He yelled, “What the fuck, Vergil?! What the hell is wrong with you?!”

The SS Officer closed his eyes, “I’m doing what I feel is just.”

“Huh? Just?! What the fuck does that have to do with justice?!”, The devil slayer retorted.

An amused expression played upon the demon’s face, “You have no idea about what’s going to happen you… Am I right?”

Dante said nothing, as if confirming his sibling’s accusation. Vergil glared at him, “I see. Let me help you… Just look down.”

Suddenly the room became colder to the halfling, his whole body felt the softness of the blankets underneath him. He froze with hesitation, and then looked down – he was completely naked; all of his anatomy lay open to the world.

Anguished, he shouted, “Hey! Give me back my clothes, you Houdini freak!”

The demon’s fist struck his bound sibling in the face, “You seem as though you’ve forgotten your place! You don’t tell me what to do! I shall do as I please…”

Dante shot back, “Listen if you’ve just found out that you’re into guys that’s great, but leave me out of your creepy incest cravings! I can’t say I blame you for wanting someone as handsome as me but hey you can always just put your hair down and jerk off in the mirror!”

Vergil laughed, “Yes we did get good looks didn’t we?”

He ran a finger under Dante’s chin. His voice was caustic and vicious as he continued on, “This isn’t just about a quick fuck though…you need to be shown what you’re up against, so I’m going to demonstrate. And since your head is thicker than concrete I’m really going to have to leave quite an impression to get through. I can’t think of a better way than a little fun like this. And when you think about it, it’s not really incest. I mean you’d have to be my brother for that to happen, right? As far as I’m concerned you’re just a stranger with a face like mine.”

Without another word he gave Dante another kiss, this time being more forceful and sloppy with his lips. His tongue invaded the demon hunter’s mouth; they could now fully taste each other. Dante’s body shuddered with disgust as he felt a gloved hand run up his frame until it reached his neck.

It was then that Vergil pulled away once more, his hand squeezed down on the halfling’s throat. He laid the leather strip on top of the bare skin towards the base of his neck. Without any delay he adjusted the buckle latch to the tightest setting. The young half-demon could barely breathe. It drove him mad to have such an unforgiving device around his throat. It wasn’t just the tightness of the choker either; there was something else to it.

The Nazi soldier gave him a subtle grin as he said, “Lights out.”, then pulled the blindfold back down so that both of his prisoner’s eyes were covered once again.

Dante felt his rival sibling’s weight shift off the bed; he remained silent as he waited for his brother’s next move. The Iron Cross medallion was now more than agitating as it lay on his neck. A peculiar chill seemed to be creeping down him. It was almost as if he were being teased by tiny little jolts of electricity all over; he could feel his wounds healing more quickly as well. On the outside of his body he felt like he was on fire, yet his insides felt like they were frozen in ice. Oddly enough his mouth was beginning to hurt on top of it all; the pain was similar to that of a toothache. The symbol of Germany was definitely more than just a decoration on the restrictive band; the necklace itself was obviously of some black magick and its function was more than just for the occasional bizarre sexual encounter.

He demanded, “Get this thing off of me!”

Suddenly he felt something smooth and of rugged material being dragged down his bare chest; if almost like a sturdy but flexible cord. He heard Vergil’s voice respond, “Don’t worry, Dante…”

In that instant the feeling of the object was lifted off, Dante could hear the sound of something cutting through the air hard and fast. Then a stinging twinge as the instrument struck him across his thighs, making him wince.

“…You’ll enjoy it soon enough.”

The half-demon groaned as he took in his tormentor’s words. He wanted so much to insult his unforgiving twin but couldn’t outright do it because of the intense pain he was feeling. It was obvious that it was hurting more than it should.

“ _Dammit! That shit that he gave me must be in full effect! And what the hell is up with the bondage shit?_ ”, he thought.

Vergil laughed, giving his riding crop a spin across his wrist. He then pulled up his sleeves and brought it down on his free wrist; testing its severity on himself. It left a tiny laceration in its wake, bleeding only a little before the wound closed up. After he was finished he armed himself with it again, bending it slightly with his other hand. If his blindfolded target could see him he’d have looked like the proper general, ready to bark orders at those who were beneath him and make sure they did it by his will and his alone.

“On your hands and knees!”, the demon commanded.

Dante gave a short exhale of slight amusement as he mentally jested, “ _Oh he’s crazier than I thought. This fucker thinks I’m just gonna obey him and – “_

Before he could finish his train of thought he suddenly felt himself rolling onto his stomach by himself. Although he didn’t decide to do it on his own he didn’t feel anything force him into the action either. Slowly he began to scrunch himself up so that ended up on his hands and knees just as Vergil had told him to. The red knight was completely alarmed by this point; hating the vulnerability of being bound and blindfolded with his back to the demon. Again he heard the sound of the riding crop slicing through the air, and felt the throbbing pain it left once more; his lower back took the blow. Vergil pulled his arm back, building up force for the next strike. The instrument of punishment hit hard across Dante’s ass; causing him to yell out in pain. His knuckles were white as his fingers gripped the bedsheets. As bad as the pain was, it had a rather surprising effect on him – it gave him an arousal that struck him as fast as the riding crop.

The young man was ashamed, “ _This can’t be happening! There’s no way in hell I could get off on something like this!_ ”

“I see someone is starting to get a hard-on. What sick and twisted individual likes it when their own brother whips them?”, the silver-haired demon ridiculed, “Well do you want more, you deranged little maggot?”

Dante was getting ready to jump at the chance to say no but his mouth betrayed him, “Yeah! I love the feeling! Do it again! I want it!”

His voice didn’t sound like his own, the tone was similar but it seemed different somehow. His mind was ablaze with confusion and humiliation, “ _What the fuck?! What’s wrong with me?!_ ”

Vergil laughed, “Ha! I told you would enjoy it eventually, Dante…”

Pleading, his prisoner whimpered, “I do! Fuck I want it!”

The master cracked his knuckles, “I suppose I shouldn’t keep you from your satisfaction any longer!”

Suddenly the Nazi official was whipping him at a furious pace. Each time his arm retracted the merciless device the young man would scream, “Oh fuck! More!”

Then the crop would land hard on bare skin, and again he’d scream, “Ah! More!”

The tormentor’s strike would get more and more severe in response. After the first couple bouts Dante was biting down hard on his lip; making it bleed. His body had gone completely stiff from trying to withstand against the pain. Already a few welts had formed on his back and his hindquarters were red and hot from the ferocious attacks. It got to the point where he was about to faint. All at once the beating stopped, the demon teased him by softly dragging the leather tongue of the crop down his afflicted flesh. Dante gasped from the light sensation playing over the hot pain; subsequently slumping down onto the bed from exhaustion. He craved for more debauchery as he took deep breaths. His mouth hung slightly open as his tongue brushed against his top teeth. Both sets of canines on his upper and lower jaw were as sharp as daggers, which was probably why his mouth was hurting earlier. A light purple aura was flowing from him, its spectral light dancing like flames. All of this was brought on by the intimidating choker that was locked around his neck.

Though he was aware of what had transpired and how disgusting it was a part of him wanted it now; his body wanted it now, and he couldn’t understand why. Even as the rough sensations were still flaring, something in found great pleasure in this immense pain.

Vergil tossed the riding crop aside, pulled the blindfold away and grabbed Dante by his chin, “Feeling any different, Dante? As you might have guessed this collar isn’t just a simple masochist’s toy. The medallion on this choker was cast out of a specific crystal that unleashes a demon’s full potential, and also acts as a nice aphrodisiac due to the addition in power. However, the leather band was bathed in the blood of young virgins so it suppresses the darker half of you ever so slightly; putting you in a state of agonizing purgatory.  Your physical appearance is somewhat altered, but your mind is torn asunder. Your demonic blood craves for this devilry, because that’s what is natural to it. At this point, it’s almost like you’re sharing a mind and a body with a completely different thing – your true nature. Although that elixir I gave you should suffice to drive both sides of you wild…”

He ran a finger down the beautiful monstrosity’s toned chest, sending shockwaves of euphoria throughout the crimson warrior’s body.

Much like the vicious whipping he’d received with the riding crop, this feeling was unlike anything he’d experienced before. Even after Vergil’s finger lifted off his skin he could still feel the delicious pleasure that remained. The uncontrollable devil that had surfaced in Dante was now mad with lust. Like a serpent striking he lunged at the dominant twin’s lips, where for a brief moment their mouths met again until the demon god forced him to lie down on the bed with his back against the blood stained sheets once more. Dante struggled against Vergil’s might, trying to push himself up again. He licked his lips like a starving beast; flicking his tongue as it traced them, he desired another deep kiss from his tormentor. Even as the mad thoughts and strange yearnings of the berserk demon in him were taking over, what little sanity that was left of Dante couldn’t deny the sheer intensity of such gratification. He knew that’s what the whole purpose of this sick game was about, it was simply another way to torture him in a way that he could only do so much against.

Holding him down with one knee, the full-blooded devil presented his now more than willing slave with another demeaning device – a long black leash to accompany the mystic choker. Quickly, Vergil snapped the locking mechanism to the loop that bound the Iron Cross to the leather band; thereafter giving a hard tug on it to make sure it was secure.

Vergil twirled the lead around a finger as he said, “Hmm…you’re the one who’s constantly flapping his lips about everything I think I’ve got something for you since you’re so well acquainted with using your mouth… Over here, my little mutt!”

The demon pulled on the strap even harder this time, pulling Dante off the bed and onto the floor as Vergil marched toward the ornate writing desk; with his slave straggling behind him.

Once he had successfully led the shackled demon hunter to his current position, Vergil eased into the throne-like chair. Sitting up straight with his chin out, the Nazi overlord looked like a terrifying and awe-inspiring idol as he remained completely still. It was the immoral beast that Dante had become that took the advantage, stirring from his lowly position on the floor to throw himself at his master; bound hands clung to pitch black fabric as lust-thirsty lips met unmoving and stern lips. Vergil couldn’t help but manage a small chuckle as Dante continued downward to find exposed white skin of his neck, where the halfling began to bite down savagely; though the full-blooded demon didn’t seemed to take any notice. In fact he found a slight enjoyment in his plaything’s vicious and sensual manner.

When Dante’s lips met his again however, he was quick to strike the entranced lesser devil; the back of his hand slapping his face. Vergil’s hand had left a bright red mark across his slave’s cheek. The demon’s voice firm, “That’s for doing something of your own freewill… Though I suppose you can’t help it seeing as you’re just dying for any kind of action from me.”

The little fragment of the normal Dante that still existed now was actually dying for the ability to punch his brother in the face, the wild demon that was unleashed however cared not; simply enjoying the stinging sensation left by his lord’s hand. The SS general reached down and removed the metal cord that had imprisoned his brother’s hands. He then pushed Dante’s head down to where his face would be buried in the crotch of his black military slacks, “Now…show me if those lips are good for more than just talk…”

With his hands now freed, Dante began using them to stroke the fierce hard-on through the dark fabric, yet it didn’t take long for his fingers to seek out the zipper and unbutton the demonic soldier’s pants; where they then pulled down equally dark undergarments to reveal the godlike member that the licentious sub-demon was so eager to find. Without hesitation he opened his mouth wide to receive the massive erection, greedily trying to take it all in at once. Dante’s lips only managed to wrap around the middle of the thick shaft, but quickly moved downward; his tongue flicking and entwining around it as he did so. Even at this point he was beginning to gag as it was too much for him, yet he was too overcome with sexual desire and a need to obey the devil god to care. The exaggerated movements were a plus for Vergil; the sound of his slave choking and the rapid motions of his mouth were very pleasing to the demonic warlord. A smile played upon his face as he closed his eyes and let the feeling of Dante willingly carry out his commands; exhaling deeply. The lesser being pulled back this time, the tip of his tongue toying with the head of Vergil’s cock by brushing against it ever so lightly; a trail of Dante’s saliva briefly connected them. Gripping it firmly in his hands, Dante attempted to swallow the organ completely; hastily moving toward the base until he had devoured all of it. The Nazi official licked his lips in approval as his hips bucked forward into the warm and wet space. Not deterred by the sudden and forceful gesture, the halfling continued orally satisfying the full-blooded being. Soon Vergil was violently thrusting into Dante’s open mouth, his breathing becoming shallower as he felt his sex blissfully sliding in and out. His fingers tightened around Dante’s snow white locks as he uttered a groan of sheer satisfaction. The strong taste of hot cum flooded the half-breed’s mouth; a few drops of it slipping from the cage of his jaw where it trickled down his chin and even further down his neck.

“Well done, Dante.”, the demon said as he watched his servant swallow his seed.

The sub-demon began to lick what traces of the sinful fluids there was left on the tip of Vergil’s still firm erection, to which he added, “Don’t worry there’s plenty more where that came from. I could fuck as much as I wish… I suppose I should give you a treat for doing such a good job.”

In a single instant, Dante’s form was transported from the floor near the large desk to the bloodied bed. Finding himself on his back staring up at the great cream coloured ceiling once again; the sudden teleportation throwing off his senses for a moment. Vergil was standing over him as before. He removed his gloves; placing his bare hands on Dante’s knees. The physical contact caused another bout of immense desire in the young man, to which he tried to spring at the dominant being in attempt to kiss him again. The demon interrupted the sex-driven attack by pinning him down with one hand, “Down, boy.”

His free hand moved up Dante’s thigh, his touch so subtle; almost teasing in a way. His fingers delved into a perfectly trimmed carpet of course white curls, where they played with the small tuffs of pubic hair for but a moment; causing the transformed half-demon to gnash his teeth out of hunger for more severe pain and pleasure. It was then that the wandering hand managed to grip the base of Dante’s own impressive anatomy. Vergil began stroking him lightly. The slave of lust turned his head to the side, his eyes half closed from the already heavy amount of sensations that were running through his body. A murmur escaped from his lips. As Vergil continued on his hand began gripping him tighter and running over his cock even faster. Dante’s groaning elevated to a full-on moaning of complete rapture. It almost felt _too_ good to him; any moment it seemed as if his lungs might collapse.

Pleased with his effect on his submissive twin, the demon taunted, “I’m sure you’re dying for me to liberate you, Dante. Should I?”

The young halfling answered instantly, “Yes! Please! Mmm...”

Vergil laughed, “Someone’s hasty… I did say I’d give you a treat though.”

His fingers glided over the stiffened flesh with precision; in less than a minute the super charged half-breed received the “treat” he’d been so desperate for. Steady bursts of semen shot out, flowing effortlessly down the pulsing member and over the blasphemous fingers that pleasured it.

The demon overlord bluntly asked, “I see you’ve had a lot of pent up frustration. Want more?”

Dante growled, “Yeah! God I want more! Make me come as much you want!”

Laughing viciously all the while Vergil spoke, “Ha ha! Very well! If you insist! Interestingly enough, I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve that will blow your mind… How would you like to be touched like that woman, Dante? Ever have a special place that’s never been…touched?”

Shamelessly the servant responded, “You already know the answer to that! Do whatever brings you pleasure!”

Smiling, the dominant entity said, “I thought as much…”, with a curious look in his eyes he demanded, “Spread your legs.”

The half-breed did as he was told, moving both legs apart before resting them back on the bed.

Vergil tightened the dark choker even one latch further, restricting the spellbound warrior’s breathing even further. The demon in Dante’s blood reveled in the harshness of this, especially the strange lightheaded feeling it created; due the restriction it soon became euphoric. He then kneeled before his toy, resting both of the lesser demon’s legs on his shoulders so that he had complete access to the space in which he desired.

The darker soul imparted his slave with a smirk, “They call this the Devil’s Kiss…”

He bowed his head and moved in between Dante’s legs; the inferior half-demon felt the more dominant fiend’s soft white lips brushing against his pristine orifice. It was as shocking and sensuous as when he kissed him on the mouth. However, the real pleasure began as soon those eburnean lips parted; letting Vergil’s slick tongue slither out to trace the tiny opening. This forced a gasp of excitement to escape from the inhibited young man as a chill traveled down his spine from the new experience. After a few more revolutions, the demon’s tongue changed course and ran up and down the halfling’s circular outlet; writhing against it until it slipped inside of him. Dante’s body instantly gave way to the quick and steady flicking motions of the incredibly flexible muscle. The young receiver began to lose control of himself as the pangs of this newfound delight began to take hold, spreading his legs as far as he physically could. The action invited Vergil’s tongue even further still; its apex found that delicate spot within the enraptured half-breed. Dante’s back arched as he felt the intense bliss course through him like ocean waves pounding against a cliff; sex driven cries drifting out from his mouth with effortless fluidity.

Even through his own loud and husky moaning, Dante heard Vergil’s domineering voice, “Come.”, tearing himself away from the sacrilegious act only long enough to say the word before teasing him with more nether kisses; treating the bodily function as if it were an action that was done on command.

Whether it was simply the demon’s perfect execution or his iron-will having an influence on his servant’s body through sorcery, the slave obediently followed through with his master’s demand. His knuckles turning whiter than one could possibly imagine for one already so fair skinned as he gripped the sheets beneath him while the heavenly climax hit him; globs of hot liquid spattered on his chest.

Even after this Vergil continued the lascivious act, never letting up. Within minutes he had his submissive prisoner on the verge of another orgasm, barking the same order, “Come.”

The slave couldn’t resist before, he certainly wouldn’t now; another climax erupted from him promptly.

By more elusive and supernatural means, the demonic overlord made the end of the leash pin itself to the wall; the loop handle stuck against the surface as it had been upheld by a nail. The distance and position by which the lead had been implanted made it so that it gagged the lesser fiend; throwing pain into the spiral of pleasure. By now Dante’s mind was in a firestorm, caught between the concentrated and suffocating hell of the collar and the delicious and vibrant heaven of Vergil’s working fingers. Dante came again, not even able to tell where his boyish fluids landed this time. Minutes later his body would be rocked by another mind blowing explosion of pure gratification and hurt. It continued on in this way for some time, reaching the point where the halfling wouldn’t be able to tell how many times he climaxed; only knowing that each time he did felt like dying a miniature and perfectly rapturous death. By the time the demon finally ceased tonguing the small hole, Dante’s body was covered in sweat and cum. Despite the extended and depraved experience, Dante still wanted more. The demon blood was insatiable – it could never get enough; its desire for more lit a spark inside of him. A miraculous burst of energy jolted though him, the half-breed wrapped himself around the superior devil; kissing him with great vehemence and lust. Dante began to tear at the black cloth that shielded Vergil’s bare skin like an animal; the Schutzstaffel officer only laughed as he let the inferior demon strip him of his uniform. It wasn’t long before he was completely disrobed as well.

Both entities were now perfect reflections of the other, if only physically; a spectacular play of double vision.

Desperate for more, Dante heaved against Vergil as their lips continued their intense exchange; his fingernails scraping at the full-blooded one’s back. Dante toyed with Vergil’s lower lip, enough to cause a small trickle of blood to run down the pallid chin. The vivacious subdemon left a trail of kisses down his master’s chest; remaining there for a moment. Savagely, he took Vergil’s nipple into his mouth, sucking on it briefly before biting down on it. He could feel and hear the furious pounding of the dark heart that was beating beneath the snow-coloured flesh. From there the ravenous slave moved further down to the demonic overlord’s throbbing member; wanting to orally please him more. Dante swallowed it much more easily this time, using the experience he’d earned from earlier. The higher demon laughed with great satisfaction at his servant’s choice, freely letting him suck and tongue his cock. In accordance with his sexually voracious demeanor, Dante was aggressive as he had been with Vergil’s mouth and chest; dragging the tip of his tongue along the underside of the thick organ before letting his teeth sink into the loose skin there.

In response, the demon mischievously scolded, “No biting!”

He then grabbed the troublesome half-breed by his throat and forced him down on the bed. In another working of magick he made Dante’s Ivory pistol appear in his other hand; shoving the muzzle of the large handgun into his sibling’s stomach and pulled the trigger. A great hole blemished the once perfect abdomen where the bullet entered. The lower devil roared in agony; yet seemed to relish the extreme amount of pain that came with it. Vergil fired another shot in Dante’s heart, wanting to make his retribution severe and memorable. Despite the twisted affliction it produced the same results as before, only causing the halfling to howl and turn his head away but made no attempt to block or impede his torturer’s ability to shoot. His blue eyes watched the higher demon lay the gun down beside them on the bed, looking as if he were willing to take another 600 bullets.

As the wounds began to heal themselves like any other wound the resilient subdemon would receive, his master jested, “Cheeky slut. You’re getting caught up in this aren’t you?”

Though he carried out a heavy sentence against the lustfully aggressive slave, he didn’t seem as if he were truly affected by the perverse action either; even as it was happening to him; as if he were simply looking for a reason to hurt the half-breed.

Dante ignored the question; instead he shouted, “Fuck me!”

With reserved enthusiasm, Vergil scoffed, “Take you I shall…but I believe it would be more fun to let the human in you experience the fine art of sodomy…”

The mystic choker was taken off as quickly as it had been put on; almost instantly the purple aura began to dissipate and the uncontrollable demonic state faded along with it. His body and mind began slowly returning to normal. Though his physical wounds were healing, leaving only the faint trances of ache, his mental wounds would not. Dante was overwhelmed, saying nothing for a long time. Even though it was his inner devil that had been seduced by this monster, the more human part of his soul had been along for the ride during the entire disgusting event; feeling and seeing everything the darker side of him had.

Then the spiteful rage surfaced, anger spewing from him like a volcano.

“You…you…sick motherfucker… I don’t know how you can get off on fucked up shit like this but I’m gonna make damn sure that you pay, Vergil! I’m gonna make you hurt so bad you’ll be the one doing the begging! You got that, you incestuous fuck?!”, he yelled furiously.

Vergil stared at him with great disinterest, unimpressed by his sibling’s rabid threat, “Let’s see how brazen you are after this…”

Still clutching Ivory in his hand, the demon spun the handgun on his thumb in the way that cowboys in old Westerns do.

Dante eyed him with hostile suspicion, “You wouldn’t…”

Twirling the weapon again, “No, Dante. I will! I need to make sure you’re just right for me!”

Upon finishing the last statement, he let the muzzle of the Ivory slide along Dante’s inner thigh. It sent the rebellious youth into a frenzy, he tried kicking his brother’s arm away and get the gun out of the unforgiving degenerate’s hand as he grunted in defensive rage. Though his foot struck the insidious hand, it seemed his efforts were like that of an ant trying to uproot a great oak from the Earth. It did nothing but amuse the cruel and black-hearted monster. Dante began to feel the inexplicable twinge in his arms and legs; the muscular limbs stretching out as his body was held down on the bed by the formidable sorcery. Vergil leaned over him, holding himself over with one arm while the other that carried the gun began traveling toward its destination between Dante’s legs; beads of sweat were trickling down the imprisoned fighter’s brow. Dante tilted his head up as much as he could as he looked downward. His eyes were fixed on the point of his own firearm, he almost wanted to shut them but he couldn’t stop staring. Eventually the muzzle disappeared underneath his aching balls; he felt the smooth metal brush against them as the Ivory neared the spot Vergil intended to force it into. Only milliseconds later it would meet its mark. A choked and awkward pant resonated out from the ill-fated half-breed’s throat as he felt the cold steel penetrate his entrance. The demon’s hand pushed the nose of the weapon even further; causing the young man to sharply exhale again as he felt his inner walls being torn open. The gun was not as merciful as the overlord’s skilled tongue. It was all Dante could to do to simply reframe from crying out, though even his lungs seemed to be frozen by the humiliating violation. A few minutes passed by the time he’d taken the long and hard shaft of the semi-automatic pistol to its handle, during which he’d nearly fainted from lack of air and pent up aggression; while Vergil on the other hand reveled in his misfortune as he carried the same wicked grin he’d had since he’d started the horrific task. The sharp and rigid structure of the weapon moving in and out of him made the lower half of his body feel like it had been set ablaze; though every once in a while the tiny sight on the pistol would hit that particular spot that the tip of Vergil’s tongue hit earlier. It gave him only a split second of pleasure – though he would never admit that out loud.

Of course Vergil didn’t need words to know, being a creature of seduction and immoral desires gave him the ability to know when he’d charmed a soul into any form of corruption.

“I’m getting warmer aren’t I? Even without all my tricks I can still get to you…”, he taunted.

Dante snarled, “F-f-fuck you!”

Immediately the vile twin withdrew the handgun and tossed it onto the floor before forcing his brother to roll over onto his stomach; gripping him by the throat from behind. Dante heard him laugh as he malevolently ridiculed him with, “No, Dante, it is I who is going to fuck _you_.”

He gave the restrained halfling no time to respond; rubbing his intimidating organ against the smooth skin of Dante’s ass. Again the hapless demon slayer tried to struggle and resist another injustice that was to be inflicted on him, but he could not overcome his brother’s immense powers. Vergil grinded against Dante, getting closer and closer to the forbidden area he wished to defile with his own member. A deep murmur of unfulfilled sexual needs was uttered by the demon as his body overlapped the half-breed’s own. He could hold himself back no longer; he had to take what he wanted. The pale hand of the devil reached down as he guided himself in between the toned buttocks of the young warrior. Vergil groaned violently as he felt the head of his cock forcefully enter Dante; gaining further satisfaction as he thrust deeper inside. The demon hunter could not hold back his enraged screams, the full-blooded beast was worse than his gun.

“Get off of me, Vergil!”, he yelled.

This provoked the unruly devil into gripping his neck tighter as he spat, “I’ll get off of you whenever I want! You see what happens when you scorn those who are more powerful than you, Dante? This wouldn’t have happened if you were smart and accepted my offer. Power gives you unlimited choices! Power lets you make the decisions! You rejected me! You cast off the mercy that I offered you! Something I would have shown to no one else! For that I’ll damage you like you damaged me! You deserve every bit of this!”

His words caused a swell of animosity to rise up within the underhanded half-breed, his muscles tensed up as he fought hard against the spiritual and physical forces that constrained him; every nerve in his body was wrought with agony as he did so. Without warning, he managed to break free enough that he was able to roll onto his side so that he could turn his head enough to glance back at his villainous twin, “You’re a joke, Vergil. You’re a bitch to your own power craze. You don’t have any power at all. I rejected your ‘mercy’ because what you were offering was for me to become something our father would have loathed. He’d kill you if he were still around, but since he’s not I will. You can shoot me, you can stab me, you can even fuck the hell outta me but at some point I’m gonna get up and finish what the Devil couldn’t. So come on, pound my ass! It’ll be the last fuck you’re gonna get!”

A displeased expression came over the demon’s face as he exhaled through his nostrils in silent anguish, annoyed and baffled by the devil slayer’s defiance.

Vergil’s voice was firm and direct, “We’ll see about that… I’ll enjoy ‘pounding your ass’ for now though…”

He pressed Dante’s head against the pillow, leaving his face turned to the side so that he could watch the demon as he performed the lustful intentions. The dark soul gripped the relentless halfling by the shoulders before positioning himself in a way that he’d be able to fully relish his now completely willing rival. Vergil began thrusting fast and hard into the warm and tight space of which his enjoyment of had been interrupted only moments before. Dante gritted his teeth, determined to suffer through it. Each flick of those strong hips sent shockwaves down to his toes. The demon’s eyes rolled in the back of his head as he continued fucking, his guttural moans getting louder all the while. Oddly enough, a few growls of hampered gratification came from Dante as well. Though it was obvious he wasn’t content with the incident, he defied logic and reason by taking in what little there was to enjoy. He looked at the overlord with a rather haughty and almost sensual glance, trying to seduce the seducer as he watched him hammer into his entrance. In this way, he was taking some of the pleasure Vergil received by accepting it. He was bravely mocking the devil twin with such an unexpected reaction. Even though he’d realized this by now, Vergil only acknowledged it with an enthused grunt. The powerful fiend’s body pounded against the stubborn silver-haired youth; sounds of flesh and muscle colliding with each other. It wasn’t long before the heated constriction of the small hole and the rapid lunges began to bring Vergil to that indefinable nirvana. His head tilted backward as his labored groans became longer and louder; upon the highest point of his elation he released his cum deep into Dante’s pure orifice.

As he came down from the high he pulled both himself and the defiant half-breed onto their sides, wanting to continue having his way with the devil hunter in a more relaxed position. The demon’s thrusts were slow and steady now, savoring every moment of the twisted sensations. His free hand travelled over Dante’s waist, slid down his lower abdomen, and grasped the semi-erect member that resided between his legs. Once the touch of his hand got the organ’s full attention, Vergil began toying with it in strict, hard strokes as he kept in time with his slower strikes.

In a disturbing and perverse way their position reminded Dante of the times when they slept together as children; holding each other tightly as they slumbered in the tiny bed they shared. The poorly timed reverie was shattered as soon as he heard another moan from the demon. Things were certainly a far cry from those distant times now, no longer were they brothers – they were rivals on opposite sides of a spectrum trying to hurt one another in the most unimaginable realm of possibilities; even bringing them to a deranged reality like this.

The devil slayer’s mind returned to shielding himself in the selfish desire of feeling only what he wanted and shutting out the rest, that being the little indulgence he could find in the precise strokes of the corrupt overlord’s hand.

Vergil’s hot breath warmed the back of his neck; both men were audibly expressing their fragile and competitive gratification by now with a duet of sinful groaning.

The duration of this second half of their sordid encounter was lost to Dante; he couldn’t even guess how long they had spent in this state.

His mind only becoming fully aware at the moment when he felt himself nearing the edge of what seemed to be the millionth ejaculation he’d experienced that night. Vergil’s fingers mercilessly squeezing Dante’s shaft into the palm of his hand in such a way that he could hold out no longer. He felt the black-hearted fiend delve into him with fierce intensity; he too was nearing that burst of physical bliss. It was like a chain reaction as they both climaxed at exactly the same moment, Dante spilling his seed over the already impure bedsheets and Vergil letting his own land all over the half-breed’s backside.

Now finished with the outlandish deed, Vergil pulled himself off the bed; with Dante quickly sitting up to prepare for what he might do next. However, it was not the elegant and sophisticated bed chamber in the hellish mansion he saw when he arose, but rather his own small and cluttered bedroom back at the Devil May Cry. Had his body not been covered in reproductive filth and still healing bruises he would have thought it was all a dream; however, the event was real as he found Vergil leaning against a wall covered in posters of busty women with guitars. The blue haze of a clear early morning sky covered him; though the sun would not rise for another couple hours. He was donning his SS uniform once again; the demon had manipulated time and space in the blink of an eye.

Dante was the first to break the silence, “I take it we’re not gonna fight to the death…”

“Not yet, Dante. This night was only about celebration and my offer to you, and giving you a demonstration of what you’re up against now that you’ve made your decision.”, he shifted his position from the wall and stood completely upright as he said, “One day I will come for you, Dante. When the time is right I will make you suffer and die a slow, agonizing death just like the humans that you chose over me.”

Treating his words like a laughable chain letter, Dante shrugged, “Hey at least most of ‘em would buy me a beer before gettin’ frisky with me. Just make sure you give me a call before you show up so I can clear a space for your head on my wall ahead of time, alright?”

Vergil smiled, “Don’t worry. You’ll know when I return. I just hope you don’t succumb to any unworthy demons before I can get to you. I’m leaving you with enough work to make sure you can pay the bills.”

The Schutzstaffel officer straightened his hat, “Goodbye, Dante.”

Shadows from the surrounding environment began to grow, eventually covering the demon overlord. A moment later the room began to settle, though Vergil was no longer there.

Suddenly the phone in the front office rang, beckoning him to answer it. Grumbling in frustration, Dante knew he had to answer it; anyone calling at this hour probably meant something was taking place…or it was one of the old men from the city council trying to reach him so they could nickel and dime him on the matter of his paycheck. Though there were many souls in this world who would have ignored their duties after experiencing such horrors; Dante on the other hand had no time for self-pity and remorse. It was better to put his energies into getting closer to the solution, which was revenge on his brother. He walked out into the office, casually picking up the antique black headset as if he had all the time in the world.

The weak and trembling voice of an old man greeted him, “Dante!”

Rolling his eyes, the devil slayer sighed, “Isn’t it a little early for you old timers to start trying to jilt me outta some money? We’ll talk later!”

“No! No! This is about a job! A woman has abducted three little girls! She hypnotizes them by singing! This demon must be stopped quickly before it gets out of hand!”, he shouted.

With his interested piqued, Dante replied, “Really? I think I could go for a little music about now… I’ll take care of it.”

He tossed the phone back onto the hook as he made his way back to his bedroom.

**~~~*~~~**

The hours of the dawn were settling upon the city streets as the blue sky grew lighter and lighter; the night of mischief and candy was drawing to a close.

However, the fun didn’t seem to be over for a group of four shapes that were frolicking in the streets; three of them little girls and the other a slender woman. She sang to them a happy lullaby; sweet words that echoed out into the air and captivated those who heard it. The girls danced and skipped around her in a circle as they went along; though they were somewhat animate, their demeanor showed a subtle disturbance in the way normal little girls behaved. Where the strange flock was heading, no one knew.

Another figure was trailing them. Soles of black military jackboots hit the cobblestone beneath them. Faded olive green fabric moved briskly through the cold air. The infamous red and yellow Hammer and Sickle medallion of the old Soviet Union hung above the brim of an officer’s cap as it sat upon snow white hair. This Infantry Officer marched along as boldly as the soldiers of the U.S.S.R. did in the streets of Berlin when it was conquered in 1945; ending Hitler’s villainous legacy and the foundation of Nazi Germany along with it.

The siren witch turned to face their stalker; immediately recognizing the handsome face of the Soviet impostor, “Dante! What a pleasant surprise!”

Morgana looked at his costume up and down, “Oh my! We certainly are getting into the holiday spirit! It’s just a shame you didn’t wear it to the party!”

The demon hunter grinned, “Well I remembered how we were planning to get together again sometime but I just couldn’t wait to see you. So I figured I’d throw on somethin’ special for yah! Wanna dance?”

The beautiful succubus returned the gesture, “I’d love to!”

Immediately she shifted into her hideous form, her loyal pack of macabre cherubs morphing with her; shrill shrieks came from the monstrosity as she cackled in delight.

Dante rushed at the abomination the siren had become, leaping high into the air as he drew his sword…


End file.
